mother

It was their cries that could teach you,
   A pure piece of heart sung from the mouth, needing you to swallow and take it to your own
If you dare, you might fear your fear of crying too, 
   An aria of your sliced red muscle that maybe no one would catch.
   What then?

It was their freakish smiles that could reach you
   Amid the rude schedule and the unkind commute, time bangs his tyrannical scepter,
The toothless gap ignores, widening and narrowing as it mimics your uncertainty,
   The eyes so sure you will show it how, they don't blink,
   Only the gums shine worry.

It was their sticky hands pasted on the nape of your neck, never letting you go,
   So strong, they tugged you across an ocean beyond time,
To the warm cave they never forgot and clung to through the storm of becoming, 
   Holding you so you will know how to hold
   An unbreakable connection.

On the completion of a manuscript about mothers and children.